


us

by tsonis



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bisexual Cassandra Pentaghast, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash February, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism, implied PTSD, implied Sera/Maryden Halewell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsonis/pseuds/tsonis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Cassandra caught Josie and Adaar together, and the one time she took the leap and joined them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. canticle of erudition 2:1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyriumveins (Zelos)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lyriumveins+%28Zelos%29).



> written for femslash feb for my biggest ot3 to come outta dai besides cass/josie/leli!!! written as a gift to my platonic soulmates zara and jamie! love y'all to the moon and back. 
> 
> big shout out to jamie and sarah for keeping me motivated to do this because i would have never finished this (let alone during feb)
> 
> JUST A QUICK WARNING: there is canon-typical violence, blood and death as well as extremely foul language and implied PTSD so read with caution.

i. the time in the kitchen

Cassandra had been pushing herself since Haven had been lost when Corypheus had attacked. The causalities the Inquisition had sustained had shook the cause to the core, reminded those of the severity of the task that they carried out. A small part of Cassandra—the one that she buried beneath the guilt and fear—was still reeling from the near loss of Adaar, a woman she had come to look up to. That part of her had been wound tighter than a bowstring as soon as the survivors of the attack moved out to search for Skyhold on the instruction of Solas—without _her_. She was not easy to miss, with her being almost seven feet tall and almost obnoxiously loud, a commanding presence behind which they rallied their cause; Josephine had assured her if anyone could make it through both Corypheus and the mountains it would be the Herald of Andraste herself, and though it did alleviate some of her fears, she did not fully relax until Adaar had come stumbling through the blizzard to their camp. 

Since then, she had started to practice longer, sharpening her reflexes and mind to that of the edge of her sword and polishing her armour until her hands stung, callouses thickening and roughening her hands. Those around Skyhold had taken to whispering when she walked by; commenting on how stiffly she held her aching body, or how deep set the bags beneath her eyes were. Infuriatingly enough even Josephine had taken to shooting her furtive glances when they were gathered around the war table while Adaar was nearly bent double as she pushed around small figures and snapping whenever Cullen attempted to correct her on her choices.

Suffice to say, the long hours of practicing and insomnia that had developed from the nightmares that flashed beneath her lids as she slept led her to wandering Skyhold at odd hours and pilfering the storage cupboards of the kitchens after long hours of training. As such, Cassandra was traversing through the winding halls of Skyhold, mind racing as she moved automatically, her feet rubbed raw and aching in the confines of her leather boots. 

The stillness that the night draped over Skyhold was broken when she reached the heavy wooden door that led to the kitchen; the sound of metal clanging onto wood and an almost pained grunt broke her reverie, and her already vigilant senses were lurched into high gear as the memories of the night at Haven washed over her again. Her body moved of its own accord as she carefully opened the door, chest tightening and eyes cramming shut in fear of what she would see when the door opened (she could almost taste the heavy, cloying iron blood in the air as she did that night)—

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” a voice moaned, a mix of embarrassment and arousal colouring the words.

“That is the plan, darling, but you said you’d let me have a reward for not yelling at Cullen this week and I intend to fully follow through.” Someone quipped back, the rough baritone tinged with fondness.

Those voices, she knew; Cassandra wrenched open her eyes at that, blinking back the spots that danced in her vision in the dim candlelight, chest unknotting as her mind repeated ‘ _safe, alive, here_ ’ like she was sending a prayer to the Maker before knotting for entirely _different_ reasons. Before her very eyes, pressed against the wall, was a sweat-slicked and flushed Josephine, skirts hiked up around her waist and hands gripping the horns of the Inquisitor who was kneeled between her parted legs, head situated at the apex of Josephine’s thighs and large hands holding Josephine’s quivering thighs.

“ _Adaar_ ,” exasperation creeping into Josie’s voice and she tugged none-too-kindly on Adaar’s horns, “Maker, if you stop now I will never order those Orlesian biscuits you enjoy to tide you through banquets.” 

“You wouldn’t _dare_ , I would never show up to any banquet or ball ever again and we both know that,” Adaar scoffed, before affixing her lips to what Cassandra assumed was Josie’s clit, causing the ambassador to moan low and long.

Cassandra’s lips parted, an aborted sound escaping her constricted throat causing Josie’s head to snap up and her ( _beautiful, sparkling_ ) hazel eyes to widen in fear.

“Maker, Cassandra! This isn’t—I mean this is what it looks like.” Josie fumbled with her skirts, uncaring that they effectively caught themselves on Adaar’s horns in her haste to cover herself.

Adaar squawked at this, cursing as she maneuvered out from underneath the swell of fabric to rise to her full height. Cassandra’s stony stare shifted to Adaar, whose lips glistened with—she bodily shook herself and averted her gaze, cheeks heating and stomach swooping at the mere thought of it. 

“Cassandra, what a surprise to see you here in the kitchen in the dead of night.” Adaar deadpanned, none too subtly drawing the sleeve of her overcoat over her lips.

“The same could be said for you two,” Cassandra snapped back, biting down the apology that attempted to bubble up to soothe the ice in her tone. She was not in the wrong here, especially since they were doing such acts in a public location, let alone in the kitchen of all places. “I am sorry to have interrupted,” she waved a gloved hand at the two of them, “ _this_. Good night Josephine and Inquisitor Adaar.” 

With a stiff turn, she ignored the look of shame on Josie’s face and irritation pinching Adaar’s features and trudged out into the hallway, slamming the door behind her as if it personally offended her.

“Well, that went about as well as I expected.” Came the muffled voice of Adaar through the door.

Cassandra tamped down her desire to run, calmly walking the stone halls of Skyhold back to the courtyard. After all the tight, liquid feeling in the pit of her stomach and the rabbit-like beating of her heart was just irritation and not some other dangerous, unnamed emotion.


	2. threnodies 12:5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shenanigans at halamshiral ft. varric and implied marian/cass because i have the biggest soft spot for it.
> 
> chapter warnings are for alcohol consumption, some pretty heavy flirting and implied sex. 
> 
> all mistakes found here are mine as i currently have no beta and i am trying to churn out a chapter a day.

ii. the time at halamshiral

“You know, Cass, out of all of these banquet type get-togethers you’d attend, I never thought you would choose the one in Orlais,” Varric remarked, smiling as he deftly plucked a delicate flute of alcohol from a passing elf’s tray.

“As am I,” Cassandra responded evenly, adjusting the sash on her attire for the umpteenth time that night.

Varric clucked his tongue, drawing his attention from the gaggle of ladies that were fluttering their lashes at him from behind their fans to her. “So our lovely Inquisitor has coerced you into attending against your will? If I didn’t know any better I think you would have a soft spot for her, considering Sera has been nagging you for almost half a year now to buy jars of bees to use during fights and you haven’t as much as batted a lash.”

“That is because there is no practical use for bees in a fight, Varric. I am here to both find supporters for our cause and to keep an eye on the empress as there is an attempt on her life that is to be made tonight.”

“Fine, fine, your lips may spout those lies but the blush on your cheeks tells it all, Seeker.” Varric murmured, waving a hand to dismiss her words before pilfering a small hors d’oeuvre.

Cassandra scrunched up her face and stalked off from him, leaving Varric to saunter over to the group of women who had been eying him like hungry lionesses the entire night.

“So, have any of you fine ladies ever heard of a series called _Hard in Hightown_?”

\--

Cassandra had resigned herself to a night of awkward conversations with nobles and strained reports with Cullen, as despite Leliana hearing the rumour of an assassination attempt on Celene, she doubted anyone would be as foolish enough as to try it on a night that had this amount of security patrolling the palace.

Despite this, her preconceived notions were thrown to the wind in the face of an over confidant, and alcohol-flushed Adaar who was teetering around the hall like a small child at their first party. She was balancing a flute of champagne in one hand, and escorting an Orlesian noble lady on her other arm, full lips pulling to reveal her sharp teeth as the woman on her arm tittered on about Maker knows what. Cassandra pursed her lips, drawing her gaze away from the Inquisitor to the surrounding nobles, trained eyes scanning the crowd for anything unusual; well, unusual by Orlesian standards.

“Shok ebasit hissra, Baroness Lasouche. Struggle is an illusion, and you will overcome this as well. I have faith in you.” Adaar’s accent was thickened by the alcohol, making it all the more endearing when she raised the Baroness’ hand to her lips before sending the lady on her way.

When the Baroness was out of earshot, Adaar shuffled her way over to where Cassandra was standing, hip knocking nosily against the table as she settled close enough for Cassandra to smell the light scent of lavender that followed Adaar everywhere. “My goodness, I never thought she would let me out of her sight.” Adaar murmured, dangerously lurching forward into Cassandra’s personal space till she could smell the fruity alcohol on Adaar’s breath.

“Yes, well,” Cassandra muttered, subtly leaning back and away, lest her eye be poked out by a stray horn. “In all honesty I do not know what you want me to say to that.” The unspoken ‘ _especially after the night in the kitchens_ ’ underlying her words.

Adaar snorted, leaning back and against the cool marble of the wall and allowing her eyes to flutter shut. “If I had known it would be like this now I never would have engaged in that activity.” She cracked one eye open, trailing it over Cass’ features before shutting it again. “Well, at least not in that particular setting. But where would all the fun and excitement without that aspect of danger? That’s how I am getting through this night, along with these delightful little biscuits that Josie made sure they had for me.”

Cassandra coughed at that, attempting to cover it with a sip of her champagne. “With the amount of biscuits you eat I am surprised you can still run around as fast as you can.”

“Aw, Cass, are you jealous of me? I’ll have you know that I lift at least,” Adaar paused, opening her eyes to critically assess Josephine, who was in the process of trying not to have her ear talked off by her sister. “About 150 pounds regularly.”

“Maker, Adaar, have you no shame?” Cassandra hissed, flushing on the Inquisitor’s behalf.

The Qunari in question just shrugged, grinning deviously at her. “The alcohol does a good job at making these lips quite loose and pliable. Perhaps you’d like to try them some time?”

“I am leaving, goodbye Inquisitor.” Cassandra called, abruptly turning on her heel and practically sprinting away, much to the disdain of the court.

“Lady Pentaghast,” Adaar called after her, amusement colouring her words. “You seem to have forgotten your champagne flute!”

\--

“Seeker, have you seen our dear lady Josephine or the Inquisitor anywhere lately?” Varric asked, absently brushing crumbs from his formal wear when Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him.

“No, and I can assure you that they can handle themselves despite the danger here.” 

“Really? I thought I heard some screaming coming from the servants’ quarters, or perhaps that was the screaming that resulted from Sera almost barreling a noblewoman over to get to the biscuits.” Varric shrugged, running a hand over the roughness of his stubble.

“Your attempts to goad me into a trap are falling quite flat, Varric.” Cassandra bit out, pushing down the mounting sense of panic at his words. 

“Me? Trying to lure you into a trap? Seeker, you wound me! And here I thought we were becoming friends especially after I introduced you to Marian, the woman who I see you stealing almost as many glances at than the Inquisitor herself.” 

“I am not stealing glances, merely making sure she is just not causing trouble in Skyhold; you know how she is, she is a notorious agitator.” 

“Really? She is trouble even when she is doing exercises in the courtyard? And here I thought she was just warming up to go into battle with the Inquisitor. But I guess she must be doing something extremely _devious_ when she does those lunges.” Varric sighed and shook his head.

“Fine,” Cassandra grumbled, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I will go check on them if you are so adamant that they need to be found.”

“I would suggest perhaps running, Cassandra, and then you might have a believable explanation for the flush on your cheeks!” The peals of laughter that followed were lost to the sound of her stomping boots.

\--

Picking her way through the darkness, Cassandra traversed the servants’ quarters, her stomach lurched alarmingly at just how similar this was to the-night-that-must-not-be-talked-about in Skyhold. Her heart hitched at the thought of catching Josephine and the Inquisitor in such a position the first time, let alone if it happened again; yet, deep down, she knew that that feeling was not one of disgust but rather—

_No_ , Cassandra clenched her jaw at the thought; that line of thinking was both dangerous and foolish. Between serving in the Inquisition and the fact that Josephine and Adaar were together themselves it was foolish to clutch at such fraying threads of something she dare not call _desire_ bubbling up inside her. She placed a gloved hand against her stomach, willing the warmth that sprung at the thought of them _all_ together to fade.

“I just feel as if all my advances are falling lower than Varric’s book sales.” 

The voice that carried out of the only open door hit her ears; her nostrils flared. Of course she would catch them again doing such things at Halamshiral of all places.

“Darling, you cannot force her to accept your advances, let alone the both of ours. For all we know she might not even have an interest in women.”

There was a scoff, presumably Adaar’s, and the sound of rustling fabric. “Have you even seen the way her eyes follow Marian in the courtyard? Maker, it is almost like she has a grudge against Hawke’s clothing.”

“Adaar!” Cassandra could almost imagine the scandalised look on Josephine’s face at that and her lips pulled into a small smile of their own accord. “Darling, you must give her time. You cannot keep pushing and expect results, especially with matters of the heart. Cassandra will decide with her own time so for now you must be patient, and try not to harass the poor woman.”

“Fine, fine. If and when she accepts out offers I will never let you live this moment down.”

“Regardless of the outcome, you will never let me live this moment down,” came the dry reply.

Cassandra rolled her eyes, pausing to stand to the right of the doorframe. “If you two are both dressed and collected I would highly suggest you to return to the banquet. Need I remind you of the assassination attempt on the Empress’ life?”

There was a muffled curse, followed by the sound of a loud thump as one of them presumably hit the ground. “Andraste’s tits, Cassandra! Would you give us a fair bit of warning before you just about scare my poor heart into stillness?” 

There were more resulting noises, followed by a wet kissing noise before the two of them emerged flushed; in Adaar’s case, she was in a state of undress as her overcoat was abandoned in favour of a sleeveless linen tunic. Cassandra coughed, averting her gaze from Adaar’s muscled arms to stare pointedly at Josephine, who was tugging almost guiltily on her now _overly-large_ overcoat. “I am disappointed in the both of you.”

“The feelings is quite mutual, Seeker.” Adaar muttered, before grumbling when elbowed by Josephine. “We will return to the banquet now, would you like me to escort you back?” 

Cassandra’s eyes were drawn to Adaar when she raised her arm in offering, the muscles in her bicep flexed as if they knew her eyes were following their every move. “I can manage it on my own, I assure you.”

“Suit yourself,” Adaar shrugged, shooting Josephine a quick grin as she looped their arms together. “The offer is open to you should you wish to take it up later on.”

Cassandra scowled, scrubbing a gloved hand over her heated face. “Go back to the banquet before the court has more time to whisper about how poorly the Inquisition is representing itself.”

Adaar held up her hands as if to soothe a nervous animal. “Of course, my apologies. We’ll try our best not to sneak off for the remainder of the night.”

“ _Now_ , Inquisitor.” Cassandra snapped.

Adaar let out a sharp laugh before trotting off with Josephine, leaving Cassandra once again with her rampant thoughts and a rapidly-heating collar.

\--

Thankfully, once the night was over and a semblance of balance was restored to Orlais—who had thankfully pledged their support to the Inquisition—no one, not even Varric, commented on how Cassandra stuck to Josephine all night, or how the hand that Adaar placed on her lower back under the semblance to guide her stayed there until they parted ways at the doors to their rooms.


	3. transfigurations 12:1-12:6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy... this is where sera and maryden come in together in more than just a passing mention! a shout out goes to jamie for kicking my butt into gear and buckling down to do this... and my constant love + adoration to zara as they are my rock and provided running commentary and support.
> 
> chapter warnings are for explicit masturbation, alcohol mention + consumption, and just swearing and filthy things in general. 
> 
> once again, my sincerest apologies for any mistakes found, feel free to hound me about them until i get my act together and fix it.

iii. the time in the herald’s rest

It wasn’t that Cassandra was _avoiding_ them necessarily; mostly due to the fact that it was impossible to avoid both Adaar _and_ Josephine when they advised the Inquisitor regularly around the war table and the woman seemed Fade-bent on bringing her on almost every excursion she took. It was more like she fully committed herself to a training regime with the Iron Bull and visiting Skyhold’s small chapel when she had the time.

This new attendance of hers shocked not only herself but Mother Giselle, the latter whom had taken to leaving small pastries in the chapel for Cassandra to find (who _obviously_ ate them all, though the taste of them she knew were the expensive Orlesian pastries that went for almost five silvers each). In fact, part of the reason why Cassandra had increased her visits was in hopes to catch Mother Giselle and thank her for her thoughtfulness; despite this, Cassandra never seemed to find the woman there, only the pastry and the soft scent of lavender.

 

The thought made Cassandra sigh and loosen her grip on the pommel of her sword; there was no use to even go and check the chapel today as the pastry had already been left and Mother Giselle was impossible to find when she wasn’t praying to the Maker. With an irritated huff, Cassandra sheathed her sword and strode off to the Herald’s Rest; if she couldn’t find Giselle herself she might as well speak to someone who could.

“Ah, Cassandra! What a lovely surprise!” Bull boomed as soon as she stepped through the door. He turned back to Krem with an apologetic smile before trotting over to where Cass stood stiffly. “What’s wrong, Seeker? Dwarf got your tongue?” He raised a thick brow, lips curling into a crooked grin. 

“Nothing of the sort, I was, however, hoping you could do me a favour.” Cassandra scowled as Bull motioned for her to further enter the tavern before moving to take a stool at the bar. 

“Anything for my second favourite human!” Bull crowed, Cassandra startled forward as he roughly clapped her on the back. “What do you need? Information on Josephine? Adaar’s first name? Ooh, perhaps you would like to know the ending to that book series you like? What was it called again?” Bull tapped a blunt nail against his chin, eye creasing in thought.

“ _Swords and Shields_ ,” she blurted, before colouring and looking away. “I mean, no, nothing of that sort. I need you to find someone for me; you know her, seeing as how you know everyone here. Her name is Mother Giselle.”

Bull held a hand up, signaling for her to stop while he motioned for the bartender to fill him a flagon of ale. “Mother Giselle, hmm, that is the Chantry lady, right? Long robes, kind face but a no bullshit attitude?”

“I wouldn’t use those exact words, but yes, that is her.” 

Bull mulled it over, signaling his thanks when the flagon was placed before him. “Any particular reason why you would need to find her?”

“I hardly see how it is any of your business.” Cassandra scoffed, expression pinching as Bull all but drained the entire cup in on swig.

Bull huffed a laugh, belching obnoxiously and patting his belly. “True enough, Seeker. But I also do not have to find her for you either; in fact, shouldn’t you live up to your title and seek things?”

“My title is not because I acted like some glorified hunting dog, it is because—“

“Yeah, yeah, service to the Chantry or whatever,” Bull rolled his eye and waved her off with a large swipe of his hand. “Look, me asking why was the nice way of saying you can tell me now or I can find out without you telling me but through my secret Qunari abilities.”

“Very well, I believe she is the one leaving me pastries in the chapel for me to find after I train with you in the mornings.” Cassandra scowled and flushed a deep scarlet when Bull let out a booming laugh and doubled over on his stool.

“You mean to say you believe this little Chantry lady has been hitting on you with pastries every morning? Holy shit, I have—“ Bull wheezed, wiping a stray tear that spilled from his eye. “I have to tell Varric he owes me twenty sovereigns. You think it is _Giselle_ that managed to scrounge all those silvers together to buy you those over-priced dough balls?”

“I didn’t say she was hitting on me!” Cassandra hissed, eyes flashing angrily.

“No, you are right,” Bull snarked. “The fact _someone_ is buying you Andraste knows how many pastries a month and not taking responsibility for it _or_ buying pastries for the rest of us is simply doing it from a purely platonic standpoint.”

“Of course! It is purely a friendly gesture, nothing more to it.”

“Seeker, you are one of the smartest women I know but you can be so utterly _dense_ sometimes.”

“Are you going to help me or not, Bull?”

“Alright, instead of training tomorrow we can get two nugs with one arrow and go to the chapel tomorrow morning. Now, are you up for a friendly drinking game?”

“Not a chance.”

\--

“You know, even though we aren’t going to confront my not-so-secret admirer, I am still excited to catch Giselle in the act.” Bull hummed, eerily chipper despite the barely risen sun.

Cassandra grunted in response, scrubbing a hand through her hair. “Giselle does not have a crush on me, she is a woman of the faith and has taken her vows.”

“So, _that_ is the only thing marring the possibility? I remember you almost tugging your hair out over Adaar when she hit on your while we were still at Haven.”

“Yes, well, she has moved on to Josephine so there is no need to be concerned with that now.”

Bull’s face pinched at her words. “You do realise polyamory is a thing, right? As in multiple consensual partners?”

Cassandra sputtered at that. “I have never heard of such a thing before, or at least using those words. Is it a proper practice in Seheron?” She winced at her poor word choice immediately after, but the curiosity (and _hope_ ) bubbling inside of her demanded answers.

“The Qun does not allow leeway for love, let alone a strict partner. It is more of a giant, horned orgy when the time to fuck comes along.” 

“I guess that explains why Adaar is even in a romantic relationship with Josephine to begin with; what with being Tal-Vasoth I guess she never experienced life under the Qun,” Cassandra wondered aloud.

“Exactly,” Bull chirped, tossing her a smile over his meaty shoulder. “Plus, she is a huge softie for romance. She practically _melted_ when she heard Sera and Maryden were together.”

“You mean—“

“ _Yes_ , Seeker. _Together_.”

“I guess congratulations are in order.” She muttered, steeling herself and striding past him. “If we do not hurry I fear we will miss her.”

\--

Despite her protests, when Bull threw the door open to the chapel he still screamed “AHA” as planned, causing the figure before them to fall over. 

“Mother Giselle you have been caught red han—oh you’re not Mother Giselle.” Bull called, trotting forward and crouching by the prone figure. “Unless she managed to gain about two feet, horns and large muscles I am almost certain that this isn’t her.”

“I would hope not,” came Adaar’s dry reply. “Now would you be a dear and help me up? I am almost certain I crushed the pastry. What a waste of three silvers.”

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra piped up, shuffling closer to where she was lying.

“Oh, fuck. Hello Seeker, what a coincidence to find you here in the chapel at this time.”

“Boss, unless you have secretly converted to the Chantry I don’t think you have much of an excuse for being here.”

“Shut up, Bull. And for the love of Andraste _help me up_.” Bull scrambled into action, helping the woman up and dusting her off with a quick swipe of his hand.

“Yes, Inquisitor, what are you doing here at this hour?” Cassandra mused, arching a brow.

“I was admiring the view of this, uh, statue. Did you know Andraste had such a voluptuous figure? She looks delectable in those robes.”

“It looks like she is wearing a potato sack,” Bull stage-whispered.

“So help me, Bull I will saw off your horns in your sleep.”

“You wouldn’t dare, Boss. Plus you are constantly telling me how beautiful and symmetrical they are.”

“It was you leaving me those pastries. I should’ve known from the scent of the lavender.” Cassandra mumbled, eyes flicking between the two bickering Qunari.

“You know what the Boss smells like?” Bull chimed in, grunting when Adaar delivered an elbow to his stomach.

“As much as I would love to stay and chat,” Adaar began, moving quickly and grabbing her satchel. “I believe it is time for me to make my strategic exit.” Before either one could react, Adaar produced a jar of bees and tossed it to the chapel’s floor. “Really though, I am sorry about this,” she called as she sprinted past them.

Cassandra turned herself to make chase, but stopped as she heard Bull’s pained shrieks about how his remaining eye was being attacked by a swarm of bees.

“I think they are in my pants,” Bull howled, fruitlessly swatting at his crotch and face.

With a sigh, Cassandra reached out to steady the flailing man. “Quit moving and I will help you, but if you tell anyone about anything that just happened I will never sneak you vials of dragon blood again.”

\--

“So, a little birdie told me my jar of bees is quite effective during fights,” Sera drawled that night, features soft with alcohol and contentment at how Maryden was currently sleeping against her shoulder. Cassandra rolled her eyes in response, not deeming the comment worth her time to fight.

“You are mistaken, they are not useful at all; they have no context of who is friend or foe,” Bull spat, shifting the ice pack (courtesy of Vivienne) across his swollen face.

“Really? Looks like they did you in quite well.”

“Shut it, elf.” Bull snapped, making an aborted movement to grab hold of cackling Sera who quickly darted out of the way (much to Maryden’s bleary disappointment).

“You shouldn’t be mad at me! _I_ didn’t throw the bees at you, our lovely Inky did.” Sera smiled, jostling Maryden ever-so-slightly when she reached for her drink. “Speak her name and she appears, there is Inky now.” 

Cassandra tried to subtly look at the entrance as Adaar and Josephine strode in with Varric in tow; the Inquisitor had her arm wrapped around Josephine’s waist, and head curled to whisper into the her ear.

“Hello everyone,” Josie beamed, flushing at whatever the Inquisitor had whispered into her ear. “I am so glad to see you all, it’s been a hectic week.”

“Tell me about it,” Varric muttered, nudging his way between Cassandra and Bull to plop down with a stilted sigh. “I think my bruises have bruises, Seeker. This woman is a cruel mistress.”

Adaar smirked, nudging Josie into the only available seat beside Cassandra. “We needed to get those hides for Sera’s new armour, I did tell you we were going to spend a long time hunting.”

“I didn’t think you actually meant it, but then again you also said you’d buy Cassandra pastries every morning and I guess you followed through with that,” Varric remarked, ignoring the pointed glare Adaar shut him. “What? The nug’s out of the bag, everybody knows it was you leaving those pastries behind.”

Sera let out a whooping laugh, fist smacking against the heavy wooden table. “Andraste’s tits, you didn’t, Inky!” At Adaar’s embarrassed face Sera let out strange wheezing noise. “This is the best day of my life.”

Adaar let out a grunt before stalking up the stairs away from their group. “If you gossipers have nothing better to say I will go retrieve my new favourite person ever, Cole.”

\--

After everyone had filed out of the Herald’s Rest (Sera, however, snuck Maryden into her room there), Cassandra decided it was her time to leave. Her back protested after she had spent the majority of the night hunched over her hand of cards and hiding them from Varric’s wandering eye.

Her feet kicked up small dirt clouds as she went, uncaring to the world thanks to a liberal amount of ale and drowsiness. In this moment, when the moon peaked out over the clouds and bathed the courtyard in a brilliant light, she wanted nothing more than a warm bed and two bodies waiting for here there. Her lips twitched, a small laugh attempting to bubble up, yet she kept it down, willing the sensation of _desperation, need, want_ to evaporate.

Yet, as fate would have it, Cassandra stumbled—quite literally—upon the Inquisitor and Josephine again. Instead of the first time, when the Inquisitor had knelt between Josephine’s legs, Adaar had Josie pressed up against the side of the tavern, hand disappearing beneath the frill of Josephine’s skirts and mouth firmly attached to her neck. Small gasps were escaping Josephine in time to whenever Adaar’s forearm muscles rippled, and Cassandra couldn’t help but stop the swooping sensation in her gut. 

Maker’s knows she shouldn’t have stood there, she should have taken an alternate path to her to get back to her room to avoid getting caught up in whatever games they were playing at; yet, her feet were firmly planted to the spot, fingers twitching as if she was the one circling a thumb ever-so-carefully around Josephine’s clit and fingers curled inside and rubbing the spot that made her knees tremble and arms quake.

On a particularly hard thrust, causing Adaar to grunt and jostle Josie from where she was practically perched on Adaar’s solid thigh, Josie let out a sharp gasp and rocked forward, eyes drooping in satisfaction. 

“And there she goes,” Adaar murmured, voice a pleasant rumble. “You can return the favour at a later time, love.”

Josephine mumbled something, and Cassandra felt her eyes almost cross when Adaar removed her hand from her skirts to lick her glistening fingers clean. 

“Of course, I might just spend my time taking you apart with my tongue and fingers again just like at Halamshiral. Make you a writhing, lustful mess until the only word you can scream is my name over and over again.” Adaar bit down particularly hard on Josie’s neck, causing the woman to let out a choked cry.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” she practically sobbed, voice thick with emotion.

“Or, I can take you apart right here, _again_ , in front of your lovely audience,” at that, Cassandra’s body kick started into movement.

“Inquisitor, Josephine, I apologise I was just on my way to my room,” she stuttered out, nervously shifting her weight.

“It is quite alright, Seeker. I enjoy it when you watch, it provides such a lovely sense of accomplishment when I see a blush rise to your face.”

“I—yes, well—“

“In fact, it almost makes me wish I was doing something to you to make it colour your cheeks so.” Josephine swatted Adaar’s arm at that, face scrunched in displeasure.

“Enough, you troublemaker,” Josephine bit out. “Cassandra, I apologise for you catching us in this position once again.”

“I don’t,” Adaar chimed in, lips pulled into a shit-eating grin.

“Your apology is not needed, but thank you.” Cassandra cleared her throat awkwardly, unsure of what course of action to take. Her jaw steeled and she nodded, more to herself than the others. “I bid you both a goodnight, and I shall see you in the morning. Inquisitor, Josephine.” She inclined her head to them and walked past, head held as high as she could manage.

\--

Once in her rooms, she let out a breath she did not know she had held, fingers shaking as she stripped to her small clothes for bed. 

“Enough, Cassandra,” she chided, willing the painfully quick beating of her heart to slow. Maker, she felt like some poor blushing maiden from just witnessing the two of them together.

She let out a stuttered breath when she felt her small clothes dampen at the thought; her face coloured guiltily at the sensation, and she squeezed her legs shut causing her sex to throb in response. If she…. If she touched herself no one would know. Just—just her. She licked her lips, hating the way her mouth dried at the thought. _Just this once_ , she told herself, _just once_.

Her fingers trailed lightly down her stomach, startling her abdominal muscles as she went; she could almost hear Adaar’s smirk if she was here, how she’d comment something in that ridiculously deep voice of hers.

“ _Sensitive, are we,_ ” she’d say, pressing a kiss right above her navel. “ _Perhaps we should see where you are even more sensitive?_ ”

Cassandra gulped, fingers stilling at the waistband of her small clothes. She could almost feel Josephine’s fingers carding through the hair at the base of her skull, soothing and combing away her tension.

“ _We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, there is no pressure here_ ,” a look of worry would cross Adaar’s face and Cassandra would be almost unable to resist kissing it away.

“I want this.”

Without so much of a second thought, her fingers passed the waistband and carded gently through her dark curls, testing and waiting, always patient with her. That was definitely not going to be Adaar, then, perhaps the first time together but after that she would be domineering and rough in ways Cassandra never really knew she had wanted. Her fingers trailed lower, where she could just feel her wetness slip across her fingers, the smell of her arousal staining the atmosphere, no longer shameful this time but proud. 

Adaar would tease her now, her blunt fingers parting her folds delicately, exposing her sex to the open air; Cassandra’s fingers mirrored the movement, causing her to suck in a breath as cold air rushed in to meet silken warmth. She would press a blunt thumb to her clit, testing her sensitivity, teasing with her filed down nails while sucking bruises into her inner thighs, marking her with her affection and love. Josephine would roll her eyes at that, pressing a soft kiss behind Cassandra’s ear and murmuring sweet nothings while Adaar’s fingers explored her and speared her open. 

She gasped as she slipped a finger inside herself, followed by a second, loathe to think how full she’d feel if they were Adaar’s fingers instead of her own. She curled her fingers, brushing against the spot that made her sob with relief, Maker, she was sopping wet already and it hadn’t even been that long. 

Adaar’d trail her fuck her gently, fingers scissoring and rubbing as they want, thumb circling her clit with ease before it was replaced with her devious tongue; her cunt tightened and her eyes fluttered shut at the thought of Adaar’s skillful mouth applying pressure to her clit, licking and sucking to bring her white-hot pleasure. All the while, Josie would trail her fingers to her breast band, slipping them past the tight fabric to toy with her nipples. With a muffled cry and final thrust of her fingers, she came, white stars danced across her eyelids as she rode out the pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she moaned, cunt pulsing and easing as she withdrew her fingers. 

She was sated, body warm and heavy as she licked her hand clean, moaning weakly at the salty tang of herself coating her tongue. Tomorrow, she resolved, tomorrow she would think about these feelings that bubbled in her chest, and just what she should do with them.


	4. apotheosis 1:1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for the delay ;_; university hit me with like 3 assignments to do and this update kinda slipped through the cracks a bit. but i promise to double post tomorrow! big thank you to sarah for kicking my butt to do this instead of drinking frapps and ignoring my duties.
> 
> here cole comes in (to both provide angst and further the plot) ft. the confrontation i was just _dreading_ to write..... ugh... but on the plus side there is some mama viv vibes (viv is actually the most caring person ever, trust me on this) 
> 
> some chapter warnings are as follows: alcohol, some pretty anti-poly language, sera's own special brand of crudeness, and explicit sex.
> 
> all mistakes found are mine, once again.

iv. the time on the war table

It had almost been a week since the aptly dubbed ‘ _incident_ ’ had occurred, and Cassandra had all but banished from her mind (thanks to the helping of ale she had that night and a liberal amount of repression). It is not that she disapproved of women being together, in fact, she celebrated the idea, enjoying such relationships in books she read for their beauty and love-filled aspects; it was more that her upbringing had never given her room to think of the idea as something for her. Of course, she had glanced at other women to appreciate their form and who hadn’t had the odd thought of spending their days with a wife and adopting multiple kids? It was completely normal, after all, which is why Cassandra couldn’t fathom why Sera was practically sobbing from the force of her laughter after she had explained her feelings.

“You mean to tell me you believe that having those thoughts doesn’t make you even a little bit gay?” Sera gasped out between fits of laughter, her dark cheeks tinged with pink at the exertion it took to get the words out before dissolving into another fit of laughter.

“It is completely normal, everyone has those thoughts at times,” she pursed her lips at how Sera seemed to launch into a few giggles at her words. “I shouldn’t have come to you for this.”

Sera stopped laughing then, taking a few breaths to collect herself. “See, that’s what I don’t get, why you came to me for this knowing my attitude ‘n all.”

“It is not like there are others to go to for this.”

“Oh come off it,” Sera scoffed, leaning forward on her cushions and placing a hand on her chin. “There are others! Josie, for example, is better versed at loving both genders than I am; I’m on a strict women only diet.”

Cassandra frowned and scrubbed a hand across her face; she could have gone to _Josephine_ , but her entire question would dissolve into her awkwardly blurting her feelings at the diplomat before sprinting away. “I cannot do that, we must keep our relationship professional.”

“And you don’t want to keep a professional relationship with me? Seeker, I like you, but Maryden and I are kind of a big thing right now and I don’t think she’d want to share me.” Sera paused and leaned back, fingers tapping against her dusky chin. “Unless, it is Josephine you feel this way about.”

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra snapped, flushing darkly. 

“Oh Maker, it is her! Bull _so_ owes me those three sovereigns.” She smiled smugly, placing her arms behind her head and adopting a no-nonsense expression. “So, since you have a crush on our resident diplomat it is safe to say you fear for your life because of Inky’s big muscles and even bigger sword?”

“Not exactly,” Cassandra spoke slowly, carefully weighing each word. 

“Hmm, so you have a crush on Josie and are not afraid of Inky… that leaves me with one option: you like both!” 

Cassandra huffed in annoyance. “I do not like either of them! I was just merely curious about these feelings and what your take on them is.”

“Well, my take on it is if you _do_ like them both just go for it, seriously. If I have to listen to one more night of Adaar drunkenly rumbling on about how she just wants to kiss you or listen to Bull complaining about Vivienne complaining about Josie’s sad faces I am going to rip my bloody hair out,” Sera griped. “Also, Maker knows Josie’s fingers aren’t big enough to satisfy Adaar, I mean have you seen the size of her?!”

She choked out a scandalized noise before quickly rising away from Sera. “I would say thank you for your advice but it was mostly ineffective and crude.”

“Ah,” Sera chirped, eyes drooping with fondness. “Anytime, Cassie.”

\--

“So, a little bird has told me that you have been inquiring about matters pertaining to the heart,” Vivienne began, her amused eyes betraying her blank expression. “Could it be that our dearest Seeker has a crush?”

Varric let out a startled laugh, banging on the table when it quickly devolved into coughing. Bull, meanwhile, paused his chewing to narrow his eye at the two. Cole, meanwhile, just looked mildly uncomfortable.

“I have a vague idea as to where you got that information but I can assure you that the source is highly incredible.” 

Sera let out an indignant squawk at that, leaning across the table to point a finger at her menacingly. “I’ll have you know I am the most credible person I know.”

“You must not know that many people,” Varric piped up. He grunted as Sera landed an elbow between his ribs, scowling and rubbing the spot after she had gone back to her plate.

“I guess that would explain why she knows that Adaar smells of lavender,” Bull added, cheeks bulging as he smiled sweetly causing Cassandra’s face to turn positively murderous.

“I steal looks when her eyes are not on me, I feel guilty because of it, yet I cannot stop. She is so beautiful. In the light of a campfire it is like she is glowing brighter than Andraste herself. I flourish under her touch, but I know that it is not meant for me,” Cole murmurs, causing the atmosphere to become electric with every word. “I want to know what her lips taste like, I want her to love me as well, not solely myself. I feel worse when I see them together, when I want to be with them both.” 

Bull clucked his tongue and softly shook Cole. “Kid, it’s not polite to expose her like this.”

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it; her feelings are so thick and cloying it hurts to keep it inside. I feel like they ooze like a festering wound. How do you deal with this pain, Cassandra?” 

Cassandra’s face went through a plethora of emotions before ending with pained indifference. She shakily got out of her chair, deaf to the sound of the chair’s ear-ringing screech as she shoved it against the heavy wood of the tavern’s table. “I… Goodbye.” She stuttered out, her eyes watched Sera’s lips move, yet the words did not register over the pounding of her own heart in her ears.

She had been so _careful_ , so _sure_ that no one would find out. It wouldn’t be the first time that it happened, really, burying her emotions beneath the veneer of cold professionalism and feigned disinterest. It would just be another regrettable bump in the road, that, with due time would disappear; Cassandra would’ve just gotten over _it_ with a healthy mix of distance and distraction they would be but a whisper of a memory against her temple. 

With her jaw set, she exhaled, nostrils flaring at the sudden gust of air; she had to get some air before they would see her weakness; it was tough enough as a woman in the Inquisition, always having to prove herself, always having to keep her _emotions_ in check, lest she be perceived as too soft for the job. With quick steps and even quicker breathing, she left the Herald’s Rest in record time, nearly barreling over a waitress as she went.

 

“Kid,” Varric sighed, placing a gloved hand on Cole’s shoulder, “I think it’s best if we learn some thoughtful lessons when it comes to sharing matters of the heart with everyone.”

\--

Her muscles screamed with exertion, chest heaving, sweat dripping down her face as she drove her sword against the wooden shield of the training dummy. The pain grounded her, though, gave her another subject to focus on besides the ache in her breast and the sadness clouding her mind. She lunged forward, sword digging a deep cut into the dummy’s chest before sticking fast in the wood. 

“I hope I am not interrupting,” came a soft voice. Cassandra turned, brows drawn and eyes narrowed before her features softened at the sight of Josephine before her. “I couldn’t help but notice the fervor with which you attacked this innocent practice dummy.”

“I can assure you this dummy is not as innocent as you believe, it refuses to yield to my superior abilities.”

A soft chuckle escaped Josephine’s lips at that and her eyes crinkled in amusement. “Ever the joker, Seeker.” Josephine moved forward, steps hesitant and slow, before she settled before Cassandra’s heaving figure. “I was wondering if we could talk, unless you have other things to hack at with your sword.”

“What makes you think I need to talk to you?” Cassandra asked, repressing a flinch at her choice of words.

“Because Adaar does this exact thing when someone gets hurt on her watch, or another life is lost, or something bad happens in general; she stood out here for hours, once; chopping away at almost every dummy we had after Haven, she almost dislocated her shoulder from it. Her hands were a mess of blisters for days after.”

“In all honesty, Lady Montilyet, I do not know what it is we would talk about.”

“Then we can talk about nothing, but I think it’d be best if you had some company right now.”

“Actually, I think it’d be the opposite that I need, as if you are very much so the source of my negativity,” Cassandra snapped, body snapping into action to wrench her sword from the dummy; a vicious bit of pleasure coursed through her when Josephine jerked back and away from her.

“I do not know what I did, Cassandra, but I am sorry for whatever has happened to cause you to feel this way.”

“There is no need, it is not your fault I feel this way.”

“See, that is where you make no sense; you just claim _I_ am the reason for your issues, Cassandra, yet, you say it is also my fault. So which is it, then? Am I to leave you alone for the rest of the Inquisition’s life? It is unfair to ask that of me, Seeker, when we not only interact daily around the war table, but also, not taking my feelings into account!” Josephine rumbled, accent thickening in her anger.

Cassandra’s mouth dried at the image of Josephine angry; the so perfectly composed woman barely dropped her professionalism to show such emotion, especially anger. A small, depraved part of her found the display _arousing_ , especially since it was for _her and her alone_. “And what feelings are those?”

“Love! Maker, Cassandra, can you be so blind as to not notice I love you? That we—Adaar and I— _love_ you?! Andraste’s mercy, do you not see it? Do you _really_ think catching us that many times, that _intimately_ was a mere mistake?”

“You, you both love me?” Cassandra stuttered out, fingers twitching before dropping the sword in her grasp; it landed with a dull thump on the plush grass. “How, _why_?”

“It just sort of happened, it was a gradual thing, but it felt so right; it _still_ feels right.”

“You can’t, _you can’t_ , you have Adaar you cannot have me as well.”

“We both want you.”

“But you can’t it isn’t right!” Cassandra bit out. Josephine’s face fell at her words, and Cassandra’s mouth opened to try to get words out, to soothe the wound that she had inflicted with a tender touch or tender words—

“If that is how you feel, I am sorry for inconveniencing you with our feelings. Good evening, Seeker.” Josephine mumbled, bowing ever-so-slightly before walking away in a flurry of skirts.

Cassandra stared at her back, rooted to the spot with a mixture of sorrow and confusion; Maker knows she ignored how the shaking in Josephine’s shoulders was most likely due to her crying.

\--

A soft knock sounded against the door to her room, to which she grunted a quick ‘come in’ to before turning back to the paper work on her desk.

She heard the door open and close softly, before Vivienne came into view before her, face pinched and eyes somber. “I just want to apologise for what happened at the Herald’s Rest. It was wrong of me to put you on the spot like that.”

“Thank you,” Cassandra replied stiffly before turning back to her paper work, “is that all you had to say?”

“No, I was going to ask a favour of you, though I doubt it would be appropriate of me to do.”

“You would be right,” she drawled, dipping her quill into the ink pot and leaning back against the high-backed chair.

“I’m going to ask you regardless,” Vivienne barreled on, barely sparing her a glance. “I want you to apologise to Josephine, and by extension, to Adaar.”

“I hardly see how it is your business or your right to tell me what to do.”

“You’re right, it is not, but as their friend, and yours, it is my duty to resolve the tension between you three,” she pursed her lips before delicately seating herself on the bare corner of her desk. “Also, if I have to hear Adaar gripe and moan about you anymore I am going to set her tent on fire.”

Cassandra huffed out a laugh at that. “I guess I may have said some harsh things.”

“Good, now that is resolved, they are hidden away in the war room or whatever you call it right now,” Vivienne waved a hand at her before rising to her feet, her head piece reflecting the slivers of light coming through Cassandra’s drapes. “Best of luck, dear.”

“Thank you, Vivienne, I will do my best.”

\--

It was by sheer unluckiness ( _luck_ , her mind whispered) that she could hear their moans filtering through the door. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, weighing the decision to either burst in and catch them yet again in the act or knock and allow them time to collect themselves; she decided on the former, figuring it served them right for fucking on the war table of all places.

With a quick twist of her wrist, the door flew open and light flooded the room, illuminating the scene before her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she placed a hand over her heart to calm the rapid beating.

Adaar was pressed against the war table, plush breasts pressed against Josephine’s, thigh rucked up and pressed against Josephine’s crotch, muscles pulsing against the wet curls in time with their heaving breathes. Josephine was a picture of debauchery, hair plastered to her flushed back and flowing out of its artful pinning, body trembling hard enough for her to shake off the table, were it not for Adaar’s bruising grip on her hips.

Adaar cracked an eye open, pupil blown wide enough that it engulfed the colour of her iris. She smirked against Josie’s panting mouth, lips pulling to reveal her sharp teeth. “Come for me, love.” She murmured, the sound mixing with the soft moans filling the room like the sweetest of choirs; Maker, they could make a religion surrouning the noises Josephine makes.

Josephine rocked forward, once, twice, before wetness gushed out against Adaar’s thigh, causing the muscle to shimmer under the light. Cassandra’s stomach dropped out from under her at that, her nostrils flared, allowing the unaltered scent of _Josephine_ to flood her senses and leave her dizzy with want. Her mouth dried immediately, every nerve in her body vibrating with need to reach out and lick the wetness from Adaar’s thighs, from between Josephine’s thighs, to have Adaar’s skillful tongue buried deep inside of her while Josephine’s long fingers toyed with her clit—

“Hello again, Cassandra, would you like to apologise since we are down now?” Adaar asked, roughness tinging her voice. Josephine scrambled forward, muttering something that caused Adaar to slowly sit up (Cassandra’s eyes tracking the jump of abs against her hard stomach) and shift so Josie was covered by the bulk of her frame. Adaar, however, sat proud in her nudity, legs spread to reveal a thick thatch of white hair between her strong legs.

Cassandra tore her eyes away from her cunt, flushing when Adaar just knowingly smirked. “I came to apologise for my word choice yesterday. It was wrong of me to say such a thing.”

“You are right, it was cruel and wrong of you to say that to Josie after she made herself so vulnerable to you, in fact, I have the right mind to have you over my knee right now to teach you some manners.” Adaar snapped, eyes flaring with anger before returning to their soft glimmer.

Cassandra shuddered at the mental image of Adaar’s large hand slapping down across her ass, and she felt herself grow wet at it. “I am sorry, I was just taken aback. It was just, I never thought it would actually happen and it _did_. It was a lot to take in.”

“While that is touching, that doesn’t excuse your attitude to Josephine.”

“But it does,” Josephine snapped, tugging on Adaar’s horn until Adaar hunched over enough to bring Josephine’s face into view across her shoulder. “It was unfair for us to put her on the spot with our feelings, especially when we had no inkling if they were either reciprocated or even tolerated. For all we know Cassandra could have someone else she had in mind.”

“I guess you are right, but I am still mad.”

“And you have the right to be mad,” Josephine murmured, pressing a kiss against Adaar’s shoulder.

“I just, I am sorry, truly I am. It was unfair of me to say those things to you regardless of anything. You two are my friends and I have hurt you and I need to fix it. I will, if you let me.”

“Of course,” Adaar’s features softened, cheeks tinging pink. “Just don’t make it a habit of hurting the love of my life’s feelings. Including your own.” Cassandra jerked back at that, and Adaar sighed. “Alright, I retract the last part. For now.” 

“Thank you.”

“Now, this is touching and all, but unless you’d like to watch or even participate in round two, I’d suggest you close the door on your way out.” Adaar smiled sweetly, before straightening her back and turning to pounce on Josie, who in turn, let out a surprised squeal.

Looking back on that moment, Cassandra has never thought she has ever ran that fast to her room in her life (or, came that fast, to _properly_ placed fantasies).


	5. trials 5:1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst galore here! this is generally gonna be a hard and fast chapter with little reprieve, so be warned. special thanks to zara, my rock and my star, as well as to jamie, my guide and my heart, for sticking by me through this (messy) fic. (p.s. thanks task master sarah for keeping me from procrastinating on this _too_ much) 
> 
> (also, yes i know clarel doesn't die before shooting that electric bolt at the dragon but i thought 'what the heck, i'm already bending canon a lot as is, might as well twist it further to suit my needs!')
> 
> chapter warnings are as follows: graphic description of injury (blood+viscera+description of bodies), major character injury, canon-compliant character death, implied sex, a copious amount of pain.

v. the time in the library

It had been a bloody, brutal battle to take Adamant Fortress; many good people had been lost in the initial raid. The Inquisitor led the charge, brilliant in her shimmering armour, striding across the battlefield and slashing down those who stood in her way with an almost effortless swipe of her broadsword. Cassandra had been tasked with leading an alternate striking group, to hack apart the demons that threatened to spill over and overtake the Inquisitor and her task-force. When told of her role, she had swallowed the bitterness that rose in her throat, swallowed the feelings of not being chosen like the other three had. The drawn, pained look the Inquisitor shot her when Cassandra had opened her mouth to protest, to _beg_ to join her , to fight by her side again, was enough to have her falling back into rank and keeping her feelings shuttered.

Her group moved quickly though; the demons bending quickly to their superior tactics and swordsmanship, and, a healthy amount of jar of bees thrown at them. Her troop was leaning against the thick, stone walls of the fortress’ balconies when the shrill sound of a dragon’s cry pierced the chaos of battle sounding from below. An almost eerie silence fell over the fortress’ entirety, allowing for the dragon’s second screech to bounce across the stones and amplify until it even had Cassandra wincing at its loudness.

There wasn’t supposed to be a dragon here, only the Grey Wardens and demons spilling out from tears in the Fade. Cassandra dragged her gaze to where the dragon circled overhead, its sleek black body rippling the almost green light of dawn. It was circling with a body in its mouth, jaws snapping hungrily on whatever poor soul had been unlucky enough to be close to it, before dropping it near Cassandra’s position. 

The body landed with an ear-ringing metallic clang, whatever remaining limbs the person had had was twisted at unnatural angles, the blood and viscera spilling out almost marred the uniform they were wearing. Cassandra swallowed thickly, wearily shuffling over to where the body lay; the blood that coated its uniform almost made it impossible to identify _who or what_ this body was. However, as she drew closer, she recognized the griffon emblazoned on the breastpiece; her chest tightened, making breathing almost impossible.

This body was that of a Grey Warden. She stared dumbly at it, brain grasping at the threads of thought that were slowly being frayed by a mounting panic. The Inquisitor— _Adaar_ ¬—was meant to be dealing with the Grey Wardens in an effort to even coax them on their side. If the body before her was that of a Grey Warden then—

_No. No no no no no._

Cassandra’s legs wobbled with the effort to keep her weight up at the realization that this was turning out exactly like Haven had. Except this time, with the threat of the entranced Grey Wardens it was very well looking like they would lose Adaar— _her, Maker, her. Why is it always her?_

“Rally the men, we need to find the Inquisitor and put down that dragon,” Cassandra bellowed, body running on autopilot as she took stock of her troop. They were weary, covered in viscera and many had been wounded. Her jaw set at the sight of them. She would do this alone, then; there was no need to risk anymore lives being lost. “Disregard that, stay here, rest up and hold off whatever waves of them still come. You are the first line of defence against the hordes.”

The woman closest to her nodded. “Of course, Seeker, may the Maker guide you.”

Cassandra readily returned the sentiment before sheathing her sword and sliding her shield into place on her back; with a murmured good luck, she took off running, face burning from the wind chaffing the sensitive skin as she flew past demon and soldier alike. Her body moved as one well-oiled machine, legs and arms pumping faster and faster until her lungs began to protest at the exertion. She didn’t have time to focus on her own discomfort with the threat of the dragon lurking overhead. She could almost feel the gusts of wind the powerful wings generated with each leathery snap. 

“Cassandra, thank the Maker you are here!” Vivienne called, she looked ashen and frightened as she clutched her bleeding side, so unlike the composed woman Cassandra had come to know and respect.

“Vivienne! What happened to your side? Where is the Inquisitor?”

“I’ll be alright, it was just a stray demon claw that caught me on the side. Our bigger problem is the dragon. It already killed Clarel.”

“How did this creature even get here?”

“Erimond called it… He had been working for Corypheus and using his master’s power to control the Grey Wardens this entire time,” Vivienne bit out, her eyelids fluttered and she leaned heavily on her staff. “I need to sit down for a while. You need to go after the Inquisitor and help her stop this creature and save the others.”

“But Vivienne, your wounds—“

“Are not as important as the fate of the Inquisition. If the Inquisitor dies we lose all hope of closing the Breach and stopping the demons from destroying everything,” Vivienne’s face steeled with every word she spoke, and she straightened up. “Go, now, we do not have much time. I will hold them off.”

“Do not do anything that will harm you, Vivienne.” Cassandra placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, to which Vivienne smiled weakly at.

“Of course I won’t, I already promised I would help Adaar plan her wedding after all. Someone needs to make sure she makes it down the aisle in a dress and not her pajamas.”

\--

“Sera! Varric! With me! We will drive the creature away from the castle to buy the others time!” Cassandra’s head whipped around to follow the voice to see Adaar standing a few meters away. She had cut on her lip that pulled and bled with each word she yelled over the din of battle, but otherwise, she looked relatively unscathed. 

Cassandra let out a quiet sob of relief before composing herself and sprinting towards the woman. “Inquisitor! I came as soon as I saw the dragon, what is going on here?”

“It seems our friend Erimond had been controlling Clarel and forcing her to use her fellow Wardens as sacrifices. Most of them were already too far under his spell that we could not save them. Regardless of that, we need to take that dragon out and quickly; the last thing we need is to lose any more good people here.”

“Agreed.”

Adaar nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. “Good, you stay here and help the others; Sera and Varric will help me lure the dragon away and take it out from a distance. Whatever happens you need to make sure the demons do not take this fortress again.” The unspoken ‘ _if anything happens to me_ ’ in her words caused Cassandra’s blood to chill.

“Nothing will happen to you, you always seem to have everything work in your way.”

“Not everything.” Adaar averted her eyes at that and her lips pulled into a smile, causing blood to well from the wound. “Listen, Cassandra, if anything happens I need you to promise me that you will help Josephine after I am gone. If you don’t I will haunt the fuck out of you.”

“I—of course. But nothing will happen so that is highly unnecessary—“ Cassandra stuttered.

“Inquisitor! Come on! We don’t have all day for you two to awkwardly dance around your feelings for each other!” Sera called.

“Right, right I’m coming!” Adaar called back. She scrubbed a gloved hand across her face before sighing. “Oh fuck it, I love you, Cassandra. I have since after Haven and it only grows stronger every day. I just want you to know that in case I die, which, probably will happen today if it will at all.” 

The breath got knocked out of Cassandra at that and her face reddened. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. Now, off to save the world and all that nonsense!”

Cassandra watched as the Inquisitor trotted off after the elf. The suddenness and sincerity of it all had shocked the words right out of her mouth. The words that she would’ve _repeated back_. 

“I love you too,” she murmured to open air.

\--

She had just cleaned her blade of demon ichor when she heard the pained cry of the dragon. Good then, the nightmare was over and the Inquisition was victorious once more. A cheer rose up over the survivors, lifting the tense move that blanketed them mere moments ago.

The revelry, however, was short lived; the sound of structure breaking and screams rang out across the evening. 

Bull wasted no time in taking off running to the direction of the screams, Cassandra quickly followed suit, chainmail bouncing loudly with each step.

“That sounded like Sera,” Bull called over his shoulder.

“How do you know what Sera’s screams even sound like?”

“Long story short, I took back the three sovereigns she won in a bet over a game of Wicked Grace.” 

“Sera was with the Inquisitor, wasn’t she? Does that mean—“

“In all honesty, I don’t know.”

“I-I can’t feel them anymore.” Cole murmured, his bloodshot eyes were the widest she had ever seen them. “Varric, Sera, Stroud, Hawke, Adaar,” he listed, voice breathless, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Kid, what did happen?” Bull coaxed, voice steady despite the heaving of his chest.

“The dragon, it had cornered us over a ledge that ended with a large fall. I threw a jar of fire underneath it, and it startled forward and over the ledge. It must have caught its claws on the stone as it started to pull the whole walkway apart as it fell. We tried to run, but Stroud fell and Adaar went back to help him. Varric kept telling me to run but I wanted to help her, she got swiped by the claws across her back and could barely help Stroud up.”

Bull let out a sharp breath. “Keep going, you can do it.”

“Once she got him up we kept running, but it was breaking and falling too fast. Varric pushed me forward before they all went down. They all fell. Adaar managed to tear a Fade rift open though, I think that is where they are now.”

“Aren’t you a spirit, Cole? Why can’t you feel them, then?” Cassandra asked bluntly. Sweat beaded on forehead and dripping into her eyes; the sting it caused was almost nothing to the yawning chasm in her heart. 

“Adaar and Varric made me more human. I can’t feel much of the Fade anymore, just the barest whispers when I concentrate enough. I’m sorry Cassandra, I know how much she means to you.”

“It’s alright, Cole, don’t beat yourself up over it.” Bull placed a large paw on his head, ruffling the blonde hair there. “We just have to be patient and wait for the rift to spit them out again. No big deal.”

\--

It, however, turned out to be a _huge_ deal. Cole had been fidgeting the last few hours before falling into a fitful slumber against Bull’s side; Bull, in comparison had immediately dozed off despite the awkward angle his head was at to avoid his horns scraping against the stone wall. 

Cassandra had spent the past few hours cycling between frenzied pacing and helping the wounded soldiers and collecting the dead. Among the wounded, she recognized the face of the woman in her troop, bloodied and weary, but every much alive. The woman had smiled thinly at her, tipping her bandaged head in a show of respect. Cassandra had returned the tight lipped smile before turning to Vivienne who was in the process of wrapping a soldier’s ichor-oozing leg up.

A sharp crack sounded through the air before green light pulsed and flooded the courtyard signaling the opening of a rift. Hawke immediately spilled out, bruised and bloody but grinning and carrying an unconscious Varric over her shoulders like one would carry a sack of potatoes. 

“Cassandra,” she crowed, brown eyes shimmering in the eerie light of the rift. “What a pleasant surprise! If I had known you’d be here I would have braided my hair and wore that gold dusting to compliment the duskiness of my skin that you so love.”

“This is no time for your jokes, Hawke.” Cassandra spit out, despite a large part of her enjoying the refreshing nature Hawke’s personality brought. 

“Goodness me, Seeker, you’re right.”

Adaar spilled out of the fade before Cassandra could return a scathing reply. She weakly raised a hand to close the rift before adjusting Sera over her arm. Adaar’s usual broadsword was gone. In its place, a large wound tore the front of her armour and steadily bled with each pull of shift of her body. 

“Stroud is dead,” she bit out, easing Sera off her arm so a healer could take her. “So is every fucking demon we came across.” The heat behind her words shook her whole body, and Adaar spat blood off onto the cobblestone beneath her feet. 

Cassandra surged forward, ignoring the protesting healer that she nudged out of the way in favour of placing her hand on the sharp jut of Adaar’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Despite taking a giant taloned hand in the gut, I am perfect.”

Cassandra swallowed thickly, her thumb absently rubbing circles into Adaar’s skin. “I could almost kill you right now.”

“Replace the double l with two s’s and you have yourself a deal.”

“You are lucky you are already injured or I would give you other bruises to worry about.”

Adaar scoffed, and Cassandra took that as her cue to move and allow the disgruntled healer to take over. “You are like I like my ladies feisty!” Adaar called before attempting to shake off the persistent healer. 

Cassandra rolled her eyes fondly at the woman before turning back to Vivienne. “You might want to wipe off the lovesick expression before Bull wakes up and never lets you out of his sight without shoving a dragon tooth in your direction and pointing at Adaar.”

As if on cue, Bull let out a loud snore that startled him awake and ended with his confused snuffling. “What, what is—oh Adaar is back!”

\--

As soon as they got back to Skyhold, Josie had come sprinting over to their welcome party and flung herself into the waiting arms of Adaar. 

“Hey, love, hey I’m okay I’m right here.” Adaar murmured, pressing a kiss into the soft hair atop Josie’s head.

“Varric told me everything,” Josie deadpanned, pulling back to plant an elbow in Adaar’s healing abdomen. 

Adaar doubled over, grunting in surprise at the suddenness of the move. “I can explain—“ 

“Taking a demon claw is _not_ something that you can merely explain. What if you had died? What would we do without you? What would _I_ do without you?”

“You are a strong woman, Josie, you would have lived and carried the torch without me. I know you can.”

“Sorry to break up this little lovey dovey moment and all,” Varric drawled, “but you are holding up the rest of us lesser members of the Inquisition with this reunion.” 

Adaar flushed and straightened up, hauling Josie off to the side with her so the others could pass. “Sorry, Varric.”

“No problem, Adaar, just try not to make a habit of it.” He griped, before resuming leaning on Hawke and limping across the courtyard.

“I love you, Josie.”

“I love you too, Adaar. But you still are not forgiven for almost dying on me again.”

“Of couse, love.”

\--

“Cassandra, darling, do you mind running to the library to get me a book?” Vivienne asked, voice carrying across the floor despite her elegantly lounging in her quarters. 

“Why do I have to do that?”

“I am injured and still recovering, Cassandra! Moving would aggravate my wounds.”

“You are completely fine, just yesterday I saw you throwing a spell at Bull after he dropped an entire bowl of soup on your tomes.”

“But Seeker, I need to be in fighting shape if we are to take on hordes of demons again.”

“Fine! Fine.”

“You are just darling! It is called _The First Blight_ , it should be a deep red colour and quite tattered looking.”

With a grumble, Cassandra climbed the steps to the library, shouldering past a scurrying scout with a bit more force than particularly necessary. Dorian was loitering outside of the library door looking frazzled and a touch angry, his hair looked like he had been tugging on it quite fiercely instead of its usual coiffed appearance.

“Dorian? Why are you just standing outside of the library?”

“Because they are in there ruining the peace of the library with their coupling.” 

“They?”

“The lovely Inquisitor and Lady Montilyet.”

“You are joking, right?”

“If only I was! I was in the middle of talking to Ellendra about a very important spell when their moaning started up and hasn’t stopped for the past ten mintues.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I will deal with this.”

“Please do! The quicker I can get back in there the quicker I can forget this entire ordeal ever happened.”

Cassandra slipped through the door with ease, shutting it firmly behind her before moving to follow the soft moans. It wasn’t really that hard to find them, in all honesty, as the force of Adaar’s made the whole bookshelf they were up against shake menacingly. 

“You two never cease to find less public places for this behavior.” 

Adaar let out a loud laugh and leaned out over the edge of the bookcase. She looked beautiful in her dishevelment with rosy cheeks and messy hair. “Well it is obvious we were trying to lure you here! And here you are.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes at that. “Here I am to get a book for Vivienne.”

“And lured perfectly into our trap.”

“Your trap,” Josie chimed, voice rough.

“This was a joint effort, love.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You mean besides your clever tongue and even cleverer fingers—“

“I am still standing right here,” Cassandra interrupted, face flushing at the nature of the conversation.

“Ah, good, because this is the part where I ask if you would like to join us! Especially since I heard what you said at Adamant, about loving me thanks to my super Qunari hearing ability. I hope that extends to Josie as well, we are a kind of a package deal.”

Cassandra swore under her breath. Of course she would’ve heard that. “It does.”

“I love you too.” Josie murmured.

“Aw, we all love each other! But yes, if you want to join us you can! No pressure at all, we will love you no matter what happens.”

“I would love to join you now, I would be lying if I hadn’t been waiting and planning for this moment for a while now. But, I feel that I still must think it over before I make such a big decision.”

“Of course, take as much time as you need,” Josephine’s voice was warm and soothing, it helped calm the fraying nerves in Cassandra. 

“If you don’t mind I am just going to leave now and let you finish.”

“Way ahead of you, Cassandra. Close the door on your way out please!” 

\--

“Did Cassandra ever get you that book you asked for?” Dorian asked after Cassandra had scurried out of the library looking hot and bothered.

“Whatever do you mean, Dorian? I have had this book the entire time,” Vivienne smirked and raised the book in question.

“You are a cunning, scary woman and I love that about you.”


	6. trials 15:1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i sincerely apologise for the ~3 month wait. this kinda got away with me once school but its little heeled boots in my back, but i promised to finish it, regardless of what happened.
> 
> without further ado, the end is nigh, and so is the moment we've (okay mostly me) have been waiting for. general chapter warnings of food / alcohol apply, as well as some vague descriptions of violence and demon ichor. oh yeah, also some nsfw stuff. 
> 
> once again, not beta'd so pardon for any mistakes found.

vi. the time in adaar’s quarters

The battle to close the Rift had been long and hard; the very concept of time had faded between each cleave of a blade; each burn of over-strained muscles; each cry of the fallen soldiers, choking on their last breaths. They had lost too many soldiers to even just _reach_ Corypheus, whether it be from wounds they had sustained—and would soon succumb to back at Skyhold—making them no longer be able to fight or a death blow delivered by a single swipe of a demon. 

Cassandra’s jaw clenched at the memory of walking through waves and waves of demons; their numbers never ceased to stop pouring from the open Fade rifts until the Inquisitor had closed them. The lull in battle it had provided seemed to be mot as Corypheus himself had showed to finish the job of killing the Inquisitor himself. The look of feral hatred in his eyes had shaken her to her very core.

“Are you almost ready, Cassandra?” The Inquisitor asked, adjusting her sash for the umpteenth time that night. “The nobles and dignitaries Josie had invited are expecting quite a show from the lot of us tonight.”

“Yes, it would seem so. Do I,” Cassandra hesitated, running a gloved hand over the front of her overcoat. “Look alright?”

“You look divine, Cassandra. But, if you run your glove over your coat anymore you’ll wear holes into them both.”

Cassandra scowled at that, suppressing the urge to run a gloved hand over her sash to adjust it further. “You are ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

“Every day I pray to the Maker that I will be delivered from such affectations,” Cassandra deadpanned. 

“Ha! You just agreed you love me; well, a part of me!” Adaar crowed, turning from where she was studying her appearance to shoot Cassandra a smug gaze. “Do I hear wedding bells? Or whatever human tradition accompanies a wedding.”

“You are insufferable.”

\--

“Please welcome Inquisitor Adaar, champion of Thedas and her people.” 

Adaar towered over the attendant that announced her arrival almost comically so. Despite this, the elegance and grace that oozed off of her was enough to keep the barbed tongues of the nobles held and in check.

“Thank you very much for coming tonight. As you know, the Rift is finally closed and Corypheus has perished; this time, for good.” Adaar held her hand up as the applause started, causing it to peter out as quickly as it had started. “While this is cause for celebration, we are also here to recognize those that have lost their lives to accomplish this goal. May the Maker keep them in His arms and protect them from all harm. Now, please let our celebration carry on.”

Cassandra watched as the Inquisitor smiled beatifically to the surge of applause before descending the stairs of the dais to join her advisors before disappearing behind the wave of people coming to speak to the Inquisitor herself.

“Y’know, if you wanna talk to her you should do it before some noble tries to force her sons on her,” Sera noted from where was disinterestedly gnawing on a turkey leg.

“What makes you think I want to do that?”

“Probably ‘cause you looked like you wanted to throw her down and take her right there, or how you just blushed like I caught you with your pants around your ankles at the idea of talking to her. Take your pick.” 

Cassandra’s blush deepened at that. “I did no such thing.”

“Mhm,” Sera sounded hardly convinced. “Between us, I’d make your move before her feelings Fade away. Ha, get it? Fade, like the—” At Cassandra’s unimpressed face Sera quickly stopped talking. “You’re no fun, y’know that?”

“I’m not here to be fun, I’m here to be serious. Perhaps you should try it some time.”  
Before Sera could even reply, a very wobbly looking Varric stumbled over and into them. “Ladies, what a lovely coincidence to see you here, alone, in a corner. Are you conspiring against our dear Inquisitor?”

At the scandalized look of nearby nobles, Cassandra hissed and grasped his upper arm none-too-kindly. “What on earth are you thinking by spewing that nonsense tonight? Especially on a night where it could very likely happen.”

“Woah, woah,” Varric held his hands up to placate her. “It was merely joking, Cassandra, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“She’s not wearing any knickers, I already checked.” Sera piped up from where she was attempting to pilfer a long feather from a lady’s hat. The lady in question startled forward at the noise right by her ear before stalking off from the unapologetic elf.

Cassandra reddened under Varric’s gaze. “Seeker, is this true?”

“A-Absolutely not. I need to check on the Ambassadors, excuse me.” Cassandra stuttered, barely performing the proper social graces as she broke away from the two.

“Definitely not.” 

“Obviously,” Sera smirked, returning the proffered high five.

\--

“If you will excuse me for one moment, Lord Trevelyan,” Josie murmured, bowing respectfully before breaking away from the nobleman. “Cassandra! There you are, I’ve been looking for you all night. How are you enjoy the festivities?”

“I am enjoying them very much, Josephine, it is a lovely celebration you have managed to throw together in less than a day’s notice.” 

Josephine flourished underneath her praise, and placed a gloved hand on her forearm. “I am actually happy I got more than a few hours, unlike last time.” As if she was summoned by the implication itself, a beaming Adaar appeared behind the ambassador. 

“Please tell me you are not bad-mouthing me to Cassandra,” she murmured, before lowering to press a wet kiss on Josephine’s cheek. “Or at least, telling her how strong and heroic I am both on the battlefield and in b—”

“I am doing nothing of the sort.”

“If she was, I feel it wouldn’t benefit your already inflated ego to tell you.” 

Adaar made a hurt noise and placed a hand over her breast. “You wound me, Cassandra. And here I thought you would let me dance with you tonight.”

“If you manage to socialize without creating another political situation we must diffuse, perhaps I will,” Cassandra murmured, averting her gaze from the horned woman to study a nearby noble’s mask with interest.

“Is that,” a pause as Adaar sucked in an unsteady breath. “Are you agreeing to dance with me?”

“There are set conditions to said dance, but yes, I am.”

Josephine hummed, pleased at the exchange between the two people she cared most for, barring her sister. “While I would love to continue to be a spectator to this childlike attempt at courting, I believe we have a few more diplomats to engage with; namely the Queen Anora of Ferelden and her Royal Consort, Lady Tabris.” 

“The Queen of Ferelden has a woman consort?” Cassandra asked, marveling at the knowledge that such a relationship between women was even allowed at such levels of nobility. 

“Much to the chagrin of the courtiers, yes. But they already know they will be quartered in the event of bringing up such thoughts to the Queen,” Adaar murmured, she placed a hand at the small of Josephine’s back, causing the ambassador to shoot the woman a smile. “I admire her, really, having a whole wing of her castle devoted to punishing those who dare speak against the love of her life. I should have that too; if anyone dares speak ill of my future wives, that is.”

Josephine and Cassandra blushed in tandem. “Are you proposing?” 

Adaar winced, using her free hand to adjust her cravat. “Maybe? Can we talk about this in private? The three of us, that is.”

“I-Of course. We shall see you later tonight, Cassandra.” Josephine curtsied lowly, before moving on in a swish of skirts, Adaar hot on her heels.

“My quarters, after the party!” Adaar called back to a dumbfounded Cassandra.

 _Maker_ , she thought, _these two were going to be the death of her_. 

\--

“A little bird tells me that Adaar proposed to not only one, but two people tonight,” Bull remarked to a practically sparkling Vivienne. 

The woman inclined her head gently, in imitation of a nod. “Yes, news does travel fast, especially when there is liquor loosening the lips of nobles.”

“Do you think Cassandra finally grew comfortable with the idea of being not only with one woman, but two of them, though? Adaar talked to me about how she feared Cass would never come around to the idea,” Bull muttered, eye narrowed at the two in question as they swept gracefully across the floor in a fluid carole. 

“I believe if she was not comfortable with the idea she would not be dancing with her right now, let alone in front of all these prying eyes.”

Bull hummed thoughtfully, glancing over to where Vivienne sat with perfect posture against the high-backed chair. “I guess you are right, ma’am.”

“I always am,” Vivienne graced him with a rare, genuine smile before turning back to her delicate champagne flute.

“How do you not break those glasses, by the way? I’d probably have broken at least three of them right now.”

A breathless laugh escaped the knight enchanter’s serious veneer, before her mask slipped back into place. It was scary that she didn’t even need those ridiculous masks the Orlesians did to hide her emotions so well. “Power and control, my dear.”

“I guess so,” he shrugged. “Hey, so tell me about that time in Orlais when you froze that noble’s glass to his hand again.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Vivienne feigned ignorance, sipping finely before placing her flute back down. “But, if you insist, I guess there’d be no harm in recounting this fictitious event.”

Bull smiled, settling back against the chair. Maybe tonight wasn’t _so_ bad. 

\--

“It is great to see you again, Cassandra,” Hawke smiled, gratefully accepting the woman’s bow with a nod of her head. “I am glad to see you finally have put Corypheus out of commission. We can all rest easy now.”

Cassandra nodded, smiling kindly at Hawke’s praise. Her usual stoic self was eased, with both Hawke’s presence and the spiced wine that was being carted around frequently. “Thank you, Hawke, it means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two women as they watched the celebration slowly wind down as more and more nobles and diplomats bid their adieu to the Inquisitor. 

“You know, you should let yourself have nice things, Cassandra.”

“Excuse me?”

“Varric tells me how reserved you are, both in battle and in life. You deserve to have nice things and to let yourself feel loved and be loved; especially when said love is reciprocated. You don’t have to deny yourself so much, you need to enjoy life.”

“And what makes you think,” Cassandra bit out none-too-kindly, her previous good mood evaporating into nothing but mist. “That I am not enjoying my life? How is that any of your business?”

“The fact that you are responding like this,” Hawke shrugged, eyes moving around the room. “If you enjoyed yourself you wouldn’t have been so defensive about it. But I understand, I have no right to pry into your life. My apologies.”

Cassandra sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face; she felt bone-tired and more than a little guilty at her tone with Hawke. “I apologise too, I was a bit too hard on you just now, but… it is hard for me to let myself _not_ be reserved. I have had to practice poise and attitude my entire life, both as the daughter of a royal family _and_ as the Right Hand of the Divine.”

“I understand, I truly do. Going from being able to do whatever I want when I wanted to having to play politics with people and living my life by a bloody schedule isn’t the life I thought I would have, let alone wanted. But, it is those moments I have, with my friends and those I love, that ground me; that allow me to realise that there are things in this life besides the dull and hectic politics and the pain of losing others.”

“I never knew you felt this way,” Cassandra mumbled.

“Neither did I,” Hawke replied lightly, her serious expression washed away by her familiar grin. “Just _think_ on what I said. You don’t have to make any changes, whether big or small, now or even ever.” At the sound of Varric calling her name, Hawke pushed off the wall and bumped their shoulders together. “Take care of yourself Cassandra, and if you need anything I am only a few doors away for the time being. Also, I expect a wedding invite, and a plus one; Isabela would kill me if I didn’t bring her.”

Cassandra let out an indignant squawk, before collecting herself. “Goodnight Hawke.”

“You too, Seeker!” She threw her a wink before trotting off to where Varric was growing more impatient by the minute.

“Hawke! You have to come read this copy of _Hard in Hightown_ I just finished. I think it’s my best one yet.” Varric crowed.

Hawke scoffed, rolling her eyes in fond exasperation. "You always say that.

"But this time I really mean it.

Cassandra let out a breath, placing a hand over her stomach, as if the mere action alone could quell the butterflies that rose at the thought of Adaar and Josie and herself. But, there was no time like the present, and if she snuck out now, she could both beat Adaar to her quarters and think of what to say to them once they had all arrived. 

With renewed determination, she took off for Adaar’s quarters, ignoring the knowing glances that both Bull and Vivienne shot her way. She deserved nice things, she deserved indulgence; and if that meant she would be with the two women she _loved_ —

Her heart skipped a beat at the realization. She _did_ love them, to the point where it physically pained her to even fathom a life that didn’t have them in it. Her palms sweat, and she struggled to control her breathing. Everyone she loved though, she lost, her brother being the main one throughout the years. Not to mention countless fellows in arms, both before and during her time with the Inquisition. 

She wouldn’t let them go, she would hold onto them with every fiber of her being, with every piece of resolve she had built up around her mind and her heart in an attempt to shield herself from pain of loss, of betrayal; a shield that Adaar had broken as easily as a twig with just one glance in her direction and one brush of fingers, a shield that Josephine had broken with quiet touches and tender words. Her heart swelled to twice its size in her breast, she would be theirs as long as they would have her, and she would cherish every minute of their time together.

Her hand didn’t even hesitate as she opened the heavy wooden door leading to Adaar’s quarters, and why would it? This was love in its purest form, stripped down to nothing but the bare essentials: mutual desire, need, it even had that spark that Varric so aptly described in his novels. And she would meet it all, head on, with a love of her own, no longer hidden in the recesses of her heart, but open and ready to be received.

\--

It had been but a moments of waiting before Josie and Adaar joined her in Adaar’s quarters, the two stopped in their tracks, obviously surprised to see the woman not only there before them, but comfortable perched on Adaar’s couch.

“This is a very nice room,” Cassandra stuttered, breaking the tension that filled the room. “I could get used to staying here.”

Adaar swallowed thickly, casting a glance down to the minutely shaking Josephine at her side, the woman was painfully grasping her hand; almost as if she was afraid she’d wake up from whatever fever dream this may be. “Yes,” Adaar rasped, voice touched with a cocktail of emotions Cassandra couldn’t even begin to identify. “Does that mean—”

“It means I want to try this with both of you, whatever you will share with me I will gladly take. I,” Cassandra averted her eyes from the two. “Love you both.”

Josephine let out a pained noise, disentangling herself from Adaar to surge forward to Cassandra and press her lips over any bare skin she could find. The kisses burned Cassandra’s skin, branding them with every tender brush, changing her very being forever. Adaar stood stock still however, jaw working almost as hard as her mind was.

“I love you, too,” Adaar murmured, body still drawn tight. “May I touch you? Will you allow me to?”

“Of course,” Cassandra offered the hand that was not currently pressed against Josephine’s back to Adaar. The woman carefully walked forward, restraint evident in both posture and stride, before twining their fingers together. Cassandra was not surprised at how perfectly they fit together, how it felt like a piece she was always missing had slotted itself into place at the contact with the both of them.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Adaar chanted, falling to her knees before Cassandra, as if bending before the Maker Himself; she pressed a kiss to their twined hands, lips warm and soft against Cassandra’s skin. 

Josephine stirred from where her face was buried in Cassandra’s neck and planting lazy kisses against her pulse point. “We both love you, for as long as you will have us.”

Cassandra rumbled happily, muscles losing any residual tension from their declarations. “I love you both, as well, not that we haven’t already established this.”

Adaar huffed out a weak laugh, turning her head so her horns would not poke against the soft flesh of Cassandra’s wrist as she peered up to look at her. “Will you stay the night here with us?”

Cassandra flushed, turning her gaze away from Adaar’s piercing one. “I do not think I am quite ready for that yet, as much as I would like to.”

“No,” Josephine murmured, startling the both of them at the steel behind her tone, one that was usually reserved for stubborn diplomats. “We will do nothing that you do not give us explicit permission to do. There is no pressure to do anything or be someone who you are not here. I believe she was just asking if you would sleep with us in her bed, nothing more unless you would like to.”

“It is probably the softest mattress in Ferelden, and the warmest blankets to boot.” Adaar chimed in.

“Yes, of course I will.” 

Josephine and Adaar exchanged a look between them before rising to their feet, somewhat awkwardly in Adaar’s case. “We should get ready for bed, then, now that the excitement of the day is over. I have some pajamas that may fit you.” Josephine placed her hand Cassandra’s forearm, the movement mirroring the one from the evening, but this one felt more intimate and loving. 

“I would offer you mine but you’d look a little ridiculous wearing them,” Adaar shrugged before shamelessly tossing off her many layers of coats until she stood in nothing but a breast band and trousers. 

Josephine clicked her tongue in annoyance, before dragging Cassandra off the couch and to the walk in closet.

“Cluck all you want, Josie, but this is all yours,” Adaar called after them, flexing for added effect. 

“Ignore her, she gets a little much before bed.”

“I wasn’t planning on indulging her needs for even more attention,” Cassandra snorted, sharing a look of fond exasperation with Josephine.

“Now I’ll walk you through all the choices we have, I think you’ll like this one the most.”

\--

The one thing people didn’t tell her about sharing a bed with others, was the warmth that was generated. The endless amounts of it did nothing to help ease her already disturbed sleeping patterns, and often drove her to lie awake at night, staring at the decorated ceiling of Adaar’s— _their_ —room. 

Of course, going back to bed wasn’t easy either, with Adaar snoring by her ear and Josie’s tendency to kick in her sleep if the covers were disturbed, Cassandra could do nothing when wedged between the two. However, she was learning to fight back in her own ways, and tonight was no different.

She was pressing kisses to smoothed, slightly sweaty surface of Adaar’s forehead, gently willing the woman out of sleep. Adaar snuffled in response, raising a hand to paw at the source of intrusion, Cassandra huffed at the display, wrist dancing just out of Adaar’s reach, until the woman’s hand shot out with a speed that was wholly unfair, holding her wrist in an iron grip.

“Cassandra, I love you with all my heart, but if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask nicely, and preferably in the morning.”

She flushed hotly at the crude word, still not used to Adaar’s blunt and forward way of talking about sex. “I won’t want _it_ in the morning, though.” She ground down against the muscled thigh that was wedged between her legs for extra effect.

Adaar huffed wetly, grumbling something about impatience and greed, before slotting her lips roughly against Cassandra’s, easily snaking her tongue between her lips to brush against hers. Cassandra’s moan was muffled, but loud enough for Adaar to hear it, and rumble back, the sound deep and primal and causing her to grow even _wetter_. 

Adaar’s large hand skimmed down the front of her nightshirt, filed nails making quick work of the flimsy buttons that stood in her way to make more skin for her rough palms to traverse; they pressed over he muscled stomach, her sides, pointedly ignoring her pebbling nipples in favour of teasing her.

Cassandra broke their kiss to gasp for air, breath warm and desperate in the still, chill of the night around them. “I need you, please.”

Adaar hummed thoughtfully, lips already working down her collarbone to press wetly in the dip between her breasts. “And what do you need, love? I can’t read your mind,” she murmured, lips moving to her left nipple to suck it lightly and scrape her teeth delicately across it.

Cassandra’s back arched of its own accord, and a moan was punched out of her at the sensation. “I need your mouth and your fingers. Between my legs,” she blushed hotly, face turning away.

Adaar released her nipple, and it readily pebbled in the air, before she moved to the next one; lavishing it with the same loving attention as the opposite one. Her hands held Cassandra’s hips fast, blocking off her seeking of friction against something, _anything_ , to drive her body faster to and over the edge, and Cassandra swore angrily that Adaar had thought to deny her pleasure.

“Uh-uh,” Adaar tutted, lips slick with spit and glistening in the dim moonlight. “You will come by my hand and tongue, and when I let you.”

“Fuck you,” Cassandra grit out.

“As much as I'd like that, you'll have to wait your turn."

Adaar slipped even lower across Cassandra’s body, muscles shifting as she moved the woman with ease further up the bed so she could lean back against headboard as Adaar got to work between her legs. “Now, be quiet, unless you want to deal with a very frustrated Josie.” 

Cassandra nodded, one hand moving to grasp Adaar’s hair, and the other curling into a fist against her mouth. Adaar raised a brow, but lowered her head anyway, seemingly content that Cassandra would keep her word.

Cass barely bit back a cry at the first touch of Adaar’s cold fingers against her labia, exposing her to the air, before her warm tongue replaced the cold air, flicking skilfully against her. The one thing Cassandra learned, besides the warmth of the bed at night, as that the Qunari had a tongue much rougher than the average humans. It provided just a hint of pain that sent even more sparks skittering along her spine, a fact she was none-too-ashamed to steadily admit every time Adaar would go down on her.

Adaar’s hand that gripped her hip squirmed its way down to pull back her clitoral hood, exposing the small bead to Adaar’s searching tongue; her hips stuttered, grinding herself against Adaar’s face with abandon. 

The relative silence, save for the slick noises and laboured breathing was broken by Josie shifting and turning to them, eyes wide open and cheeks flushed. “By all means, don’t stop on my account.”

Adaar huffed out a laugh against Cassandra’s pussy, causing her to buck her hips. “Sorry to disturb your sleep, love.” Cassandra murmured, running that hand that was previously pressed against her lips through Josie’s hair.

“I haven’t been sleeping this entire time,” Josie mused, her breath hitching and eyes fluttering as she—oh… _oh_. “Continue, I like to watch.”

Adaar’s tongue resumed its circling and gentle licking of her clit, and Cassandra released a sigh of contentment, her hand fisted Adaar’s hair urging her faster and harder. The woman scraped her teeth lightly across her clit in response, sending a stab of pleasure deep in her gut.

“Come on, use your fingers,” Cassandra urged.

Adaar got the memo, fingers slipping inside of her and immediately curling to hit all the right places with practiced ease. Josie let out a low moan, and Cassandra could see just how hard her fingers were working herself with each flourish of sheets. 

“Harder, you can do better. Do it like you mean it.”

Adaar growled against Cassandra, and thrust her fingers with a strength that Cassandra didn’t know someone could possess, once, twice; and before she could even register it, her muscles locked and vision whited as she came. Adaar, ever the gentlewoman, worked her through it, helping her ease down from the peaks of pleasure before removing her fingers and licking them clean.

“It’s your turn, Adaar,” Cassandra rasped out, motioning the woman up.

“I, uh, already,” Adaar flushed, and scooted back further so she could rest on her calves instead of lying down, “finished.”

Josie laughed, the sound full of delight. “Help me, then.”

“As my wife commands it.”

Josie almost tore the sheets in her haste to have Adaar’s fingers in her, and Adaar was nothing but happy to oblige; her fingers easily slipped in alongside Josie’s, and the pair rested their foreheads together, staring into each other’s eyes as Adaar easily worked her to completion. 

“C’mon darling, you can come, I know you can.” Adaar muttered, leaning forward to slot their lips together. 

Cassandra watched with rapt awe as the muscles in Josie’s stomach jerked and her hips stuttered before her body released any previous tension, leaving her boneless and flushed against the sheets. Adaar removed her fingers smugly, offering them to Cassandra, who cleaned the salty-sweetness eagerly from her fingers.

Once the three of them had settled back down, Cassandra and Josie wedged pleasantly against Adaar’s side, Adaar gasped softly.

At Cassandra’s questioning brow raise, she rolled her eyes. “You prepared for this didn’t you,” Adaar asked, voice filled with just a hint of awe. “You didn’t wear smallclothes because you knew I would fall prey to you.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Cassandra replied, barely fighting back a smirk. Josie scoffed, lightly slapping her hand against her belly.

“You are an evil, evil woman, and I am so glad I can call you my wife.” Josephine cleared her throat lightly, nudging a finger into the hard muscle of her side. “I am glad to call both of you my wives.” Adaar amended. “However, if you don’t settle down and let me sleep I am going to go sleep in Bull’s room.”

“Didn’t you say I could only come when you let me?”

“You’re lucky I am comfortable and warm or else I would seriously leave you both here in this giant, cold bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it wasn't obvious, each chapter of this story relates to a section of the chant of light, to verses i thought fit the general theme of the situation.


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